As we rolled into the small town in the middle of the Texas Coastal Plain we decided to explore a bit. We were in the heart of the cradle of Texas Liberty, the original Austin Colony surrounded us, if only in the historic land deed records. We had covered many miles of rain-soaked Blackland prairies with open cotton bolls stringing their white fiber into the mud. Harvest should be in full swing, but instead, the tall plants, sporting green and redish leaves were still growing and the cotton was rotting.
Some of the towns scattered through this fertile belt had roots that preceded the Texas revolution. Their downtown areas of red brick storefronts were often empty and abandoned, but in places where pride still prevailed, many were restored to a semblance of their original glory. It was the kind of downtown for which we were searching on our trek across the area.
We were on a schedule, so we didn't have much time to explore, but as we left the town square of this particular town we spied a sign that drew us like a magnet. It read, "Books, 25 cents!" Fortunately there was a parking spot right in front of the door.
You might think parking would be a simple task in a small town in the middle of nowhere, but that isn't always the case. This particular establishment also offered coffee in various flavors and sizes in the knock-off of yuppiedom that has become familiar throughout the country.
Before entering the ancient wood and glass door we quickly perused the offerings on the wheeled book shelves framing the entry. The choices were few, but a couple found their way into my hand and wouldn't let go as I made my way into a tastefully appointed combination coffee house and used book store with ample reading areas and young people scattered with open laptops, sipping their exotic brews and surfing the Internet.
Just inside the door was a second shelf with additional offerings at the advertised price of which I chose an additional work of fiction before sauntering to the shelves which lined one side of the building. The enticement of the low-priced offerings quickly turned to disappointment as the well-picked shelves held little else that drew me or my bride of 36 years.
As we browsed the selections, we noticed the line to order coffee steadily grew as did the wait time. Our early arrival on this fine Saturday morning apparently preceded the local rush for caffeine and we reluctantly joined the que with our selections in hand.
The one clerk/barista busily bounced between flavorings and machines which ground the roasted beans and then added water or other ingredients that were whipped into a froth while emitting pleasant odors which filled the air. Having had sufficient stimulant for the day, neither of us were interested in ordering, but continued to wait patiently for our turn at the checkout counter with my three selections.
As I stood there, a young lady joined the quickly growing line and it was obvious that she was somewhat impatient to reach the counter. I offered to let her precede me, but after viewing the numbers ahead she laughed and declined saying, "I'll just go through the McDonald's drive through. This place has the best coffee in town, but I don't have time to wait."
Eventually, the counter was reached and I paid my $0.75 plus tax and placed the remaining change from my dollar in a Styrofoam cup for the use of the next person who might be short a few cents.
Was it worth the wait? Absolutely! Who can pass up 25 cent books!
